Li Xiaobai's hopes were not dashed.
Shortly after he recited his famous piece, three others distinguished themselves one after another.
A burly man wearing a golden mask, his entire body enveloped in a dazzling layer of golden radiance.
An elderly man in a bamboo hat, leaning on a walking stick, with a strand of green energy coiling around him.
And a woman of graceful bearing, clad in a pink dress with a thin veil over her face. After she recited her poem, countless luminous butterflies swirled around her in breathtaking beauty.
All three had produced poems on the level of masterpieces, on par with Li Xiaobai's "Moonlit Night."
Li Xiaobai secretly breathed a sigh of relief: "This world has Gu Insects that can aid in creation. Besides, Gu Masters can also extend their lifespans, gaining more life experience and accumulation. So compared to Earth, masterpieces appear far more easily."
"Moonlit Night" had absolutely been a rare work of art on Earth. But placed within the Huawen Grotto-Heaven, it was nothing to be arrogant about.
The four of them — Li Xiaobai among them — each occupied a corner, gazing at one another.
The burly man, the old man, and the woman all directed more of their attention toward Li Xiaobai.
They had some guesses and knowledge of each other's identities, but Li Xiaobai had appeared out of nowhere.
"Who is this young man?"
"His talent is there, but nothing particularly exceptional — and yet he managed to compose a masterpiece?"
"Heh heh, an interesting youth."
Li Xiaobai's teacher, Mr. Jiang, had also witnessed his student's performance. He nodded with satisfaction. "Well done, Li Xiaobai. It seems you've exceeded expectations this time. Keep up the effort."
As expected, Li Xiaobai advanced successfully and was transported out.
When he steadied his gaze, he found himself in another venue.
"This is the Fifth Venue. Please, scholars, wait patiently." A voice reached Li Xiaobai's ears.
Li Xiaobai immediately understood: "So advancement is tiered. The poem I produced was enough to skip three venues and land me directly in the Fifth Venue."
"This rule is actually quite reasonable."
"But then again, every Gu Master who makes it here will have composed a masterpiece-level poem. Selecting half of them to advance — the pressure has suddenly multiplied several times over."
Li Xiaobai furrowed his brow and surveyed his surroundings, spotting two familiar faces.
They were the burly man and the woman from before.
Noticing Li Xiaobai's gaze, the woman gave him a slight nod, her face behind the veil seemingly curving into a gentle smile. The burly man, however, was thoroughly haughty — after a single glance at Li Xiaobai, he shut his eyes to rest.
For the moment, the entire Fifth Venue held only the three of them.
"I wonder which venue that old man advanced to."
"I should pretend to be resting as well."
When scholars composed poems, they racked their brains with everything they had. He was the only one who merely needed to find a suitable poem to copy. That was far too effortless — he needed to disguise it a little.
Li Xiaobai waited in the Fifth Venue for nearly half a cup of tea's time before the second round of competition finally began.
His competitors numbered over twenty, which sent Li Xiaobai's stress levels soaring.
The topic for the second round appeared — two characters: "travel." The time limit was once again half a cup of tea.
"Travel? This topic, like spring, is just as broad. Easy to write, but producing a masterpiece? That's hard!" The burly man sighed inwardly.
The woman was deliberating: "This topic isn't one I'm particularly good at. What should I do?"
Li Xiaobai was also mulling it over: "Which one should I copy this time?"
He thought for a moment and felt he couldn't choose something too classic — the effect would be explosive. But he couldn't pick one that was too weak either. If it fell short, he'd fail and drop back from the Fifth Venue.
This put Li Xiaobai in quite a bind. The calibration required was genuinely tricky.
He understood his own abilities well enough, but he didn't know the others well enough to gauge exactly what level of poem would secure him a win without drawing too much attention.
"In the First Venue, my approach was somewhat inappropriate. This time, I won't aim for first place." Li Xiaobai quietly admonished himself.
He waited patiently.
After roughly half a cup of tea, a scholar completed his poem. Then several more followed in quick succession, each reciting their work as colorful halos of light bloomed around them.
Li Xiaobai relaxed slightly, thinking to himself: "So masterpieces aren't just thrown together at will. These people overperformed in the first round — this round is more like their normal level."
Gradually, Li Xiaobai grew more confident in his assessment, but he still didn't rush to act. He kept waiting.
Just before the time limit expired, he finally saw a masterpiece emerge.
It was the burly man.
The poem he recited evoked iron cavalry and golden spears, brimming with martial fervor. Golden light surged across his entire body as though armored riders and clashing blades could be heard neighing and ringing.
The second masterpiece came from the woman.
Her poem was gentle and elegant, describing a noble young lady leaning by a window, listening to the tales of travelers, her mind drifting into vivid fantasies of her own journey — exquisite in its subtlety.